


12:01AM

by ClownsOnAPlane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClownsOnAPlane/pseuds/ClownsOnAPlane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam had been so angry at their dad, taking Dean away on a hunt two weeks before his 21st birthday. John had, of course, assured him they’d be back in time, but Sam knew better than to believe him. That’s why, when Dean and his father had been packing the Impala to drive overnight to Georgia to hunt a rougarou, Sam had scribbled out a note and hurriedly shoved it into an envelope, which he slipped carefully into Dean’s duffle, bearing the warning, “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL JANUARY 24th”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	12:01AM

12:00. Midnight.

 

The faint red numbers of the burned out motel alarm clock blinked hazily at Sam, who just moments before had been drifting in and out of a daze, watching, waiting for the numbers to change. He sat bolt upright in bed, flipping open his phone. January 24, 2000. 12:00AM. Dean’s birthday. He stared intently at the phone, as if willing it to ring. Dean was gonna call any second now. He had to, didn’t he?

 

Sam had been so angry at their dad, taking Dean away on a hunt two weeks before his 21st birthday. John had, of course, assured him they’d be back in time, but Sam knew better than to believe him. That’s why, when Dean and his father had been packing the Impala to drive overnight to Georgia to hunt a rougarou, Sam had scribbled out a note and hurriedly shoved it into an envelope, which he slipped carefully into Dean’s duffle, bearing the warning, “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL JANUARY 24th”. Dean had called almost every other night on the hunt, mostly to make sure Sam was doing his homework and not forgetting to eat, the former of which was a much lesser concern than the latter. Dean found the envelope about a week into the hunt. “What’s this, Sammy, huh? Sendin’ me love letters to open on my birthday?”

 

“No, you’re dumb, shut up.”

 

“Aww, now you’re gonna get all bashful and I’m missin’ it? Am I making Sammy blush?”

 

“It’s Sam,” he protested weakly.

 

“Okay, SAM,” Dean laughed, clearly just humoring his baby brother. “So what’s in this envelope that’s so important, huh?”

 

“You’re just gonna have to wait until the 24th, Dean.”

 

“I’m gonna be back by then. Dad said-“

 

“I know what dad said. I also know not to believe a single word of it.”

 

There was silence on the other line and he could practically hear Dean trying to come up with something to say, something that made their father out to be more credible. But he couldn’t. His demeanor slid easily back into teasing his brother. “So what happens if I open it now, huh? The world gonna end? The fires of hell gonna reach up and lick my boots?”

 

“Deaaaannnn!” Sam whined, well aware that he sounded like a petulant 9 year old again, despite his nearly 17 years, his cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment and frustration.

 

“Aww, Sammy. Don’t get your pretty panties in a twist. I won’t open it before my birthday.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise. January 24th, and not a minute sooner.”

 

“Okay Dean. Miss you.”

 

“Miss you too, Sammy. Now get some sleep, huh? You’ve got a math test tomorrow. Don’t think I don’t know. I may not be able to remember so hot, but I write this shit down.”

 

Sam knew Dean could hear his big dumb grin through the phone. “You know I already studied.”

 

“Yeah, I know. But. You know me, if I don’t have somethin’ to bug you about, my life loses all meaning.”

 

Sam laughed, feeling less alone in the solitary motel room. “Goodnight Dean. Jerk.”

 

“Night, you little bitch. Talk to ya later.”

 

 

 

That had been a week ago, and Sam had been waiting to see if Dean’s willpower had slipped and he had opened the envelope yet, but he hadn’t heard anything, which he supposed was a good sign. He glanced at his phone again. 12:01AM. Come on, Dean. Even though he was prepared for it, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone in his hand began to vibrate. He picked it up on the first ring. “Dean!”

 

“Heya kiddo,” Dean smiled into the phone, palm of his left hand resting on the wheel of the Impala. “How’s it goin’? Dad says he’s too busy with the hunt to take me out for a drink, so he gave me the keys to Baby and a drunk-driving spiel we both know he doesn’t obey himself.”

 

Sam hardly let him finish before he was exclaiming, “Happy birthday!”

 

Dean huffed a laugh into the speaker of the phone. “Thanks, Sammy-boy. Wish you were here. You’re old enough to come out to the bar with me. I mean, like hell I’m gonna let you drink, but you could at least go with me as moral support, yknow?”

 

Sam nodded even though he logically knew his brother couldn’t see him. “Yeah, Dean. Wish I could be there. ‘M sorry I’m not.”

 

“’S not your fault, Sammy. Don’t apologize to me until you’ve gotta.”

 

“But it’s your 21st birthday. I should be there. I missed your 18th too, and-“

 

“Sam, Sammy, relax. It’s okay. They’re just like any other days.”

 

‘But they’re not supposed to be,’ Sam wanted to say. ‘They’re supposed to be special and we don’t have holidays so why can’t we have this?’ But instead, he asked, “D’you have the envelope?”

 

“Got it right here, kiddo. Unopened, I promise. I’ve been good.”

 

Sam grinned. “Good. I was worried.”

 

“You didn’t trust me?!” Dean cried, feigning shock.

 

“Should I have?”

 

Dean was silent for a moment. “…yeah I almost opened it a coupl’a times.”

 

“See!”

 

“You got me, bitch. Am I allowed to open it now?”

 

“Yeah, just open it, jerk.”

 

Dean slid a thumb under the seam of the envelope, tearing paper away from glue. A folded up piece of paper fell into his lap and he unfolded it carefully, pulling out a creased $10 bill. “Sammy, what-“

 

“Just read the note.”

 

Dean looked at the piece of notebook paper in his hand, scrawled in his little brother’s too-neat all caps writing. “Dean- I know I can’t be there for your 21st birthday, and I wish more than anything that I could. But. You know how dad is. Anyway. Since I can’t be there to buy you a drink myself (or to give you money to buy one for me, because some bartenders can really have a stick up their ass. You taught me that), I thought I’d do the next best thing. Use this for your first legal drink, on me. And do me a favor, pretend I’m actually there with you. Happy birthday, Dean. Love, Sam”. Dean felt his face splitting open into a grin. “Aww, Sammy. You didn’t have to do this, you know. You’re supposed to hold onto your money to take the SAT’s next month.”

 

Sam picked at the bedspread, shrugging to himself. “I had it set aside for a special occasion. Figured today counts as one.”

 

“You’re the best, Sammy. Thank you. Really.”

 

Sam perked up at his brother’s words. “Really?”

 

“Yeah, bitch, don’t make me say it again or I’ll think you’re fishin’ for compliments.”

 

Sam grinned. “So what am I gonna buy you?”

 

“I dunno yet, kid!” Dean laughed. “I’m not even at the bar!”

 

“So? Wouldn’t kill ya to plan ahead.”

 

Dean shook his head. “Man, little brother. You are somethin’ else. I dunno. Probably a beer. As it should be, Sammy.”

 

Sam nodded, smiling like a stupid smitten schoolgirl. “Yeah, Dean. As it should be.”

 

Dean slipped the bill into his jacket pocket, carefully folding the paper back up and tucking it in to join the cash. “Thanks kiddo. Best present ever.”

 

“It’s your only present, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, but even if it weren’t!” He protested, turning the key in the Impala. “Hey Sam, I’m gonna head out here, okay? Gonna go get that drink and try to beat dad back to the motel so I can get first shower before he comes in here all grumpy from finding a whole lotta nothing. But I’ll text you , okay Sam?”

 

“Yeah…okay, Dean.”

 

“Alright. Talk to ya in a few.”

 

“Hey Dean?”

 

“Yeah Sammy?”

 

“Happy birthday.”


End file.
